


Breathe Free

by saisei



Series: Boys' Guide to Camping [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Camping, M/M, Nonnies Made Me Do It, Pederasty, Shudou
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-23 01:17:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15595029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saisei/pseuds/saisei
Summary: Gladio's Weaponsmaster takes him camping to relieve stress.





	Breathe Free

Gladio hates junior high. He's too big for the desks and he towers over his teachers. He knows what he needs to learn and he does a damn good job mastering it, but all of that's outside of school. His dad says socialization with other kids of his class is important, but there's an unbridgeable gulf between those soft spoiled noble brats and House Amicitia's sworn duty to the Crown and to Lucis.

"Focus," Weaponsmaster Larus snaps, moving smoothly away from Gladio's errant swing. "I know you can do better."

Gladio's roiling with anger and shame, and he lowers the practice greatsword to swipe his sweat-soaked hair back. "Sorry," he says, even though he knows he doesn't sound sorry at all.

"Trouble with your father again?" Larus asks, circling slowly and not letting Gladio drop his guard.

"School," Gladio says, quick, before Larus swoops in from behind and tries to remove the top of his skull. He can feel the shape of the form in his head, but his body responds too slowly, the blade hesitant instead of deadly, and he's thrown back as Larus brings down the force of the Hammer.

"This is basic," Larus says, backing off again. "This is the foundation of every greatsword technique. This is _vital_ , and your concentration leaves much to be desired." He shakes his head and steps outside the tile ring on the floor, ending the day's training, even though there's still twenty minutes remaining. "I'm going camping next weekend. You should come, you'd love it. Leave all the bullshit behind, get out in nature and just... breathe free. Nothing like it."

"Yeah?" Gladio says, grabbing at the promise of it. He used to go fishing with his dad when he was a kid; he misses it, even though he knows why his dad's so busy now.

Larus' grin transforms his craggy face. "Yeah. Let's make that happen."

He picks Gladio up after school, gear already in the car, and they head out from the dense city to the countryside. The encircling wall is hidden by forest; Larus leaves the car in a roadside lot and they hike overhill for an hour until the trees give way to a spectacular vista, the deep blue of the sea below sparkling with late afternoon sun. They set up camp quickly and head down to catch dinner. Larus drinks a couple of beers and when he talks it's about lures, lines, fish, and fish that got away. Mostly he's quiet, though, and Gladio feels the heavy tangle of rage inside his chest loosen with every breath of sea air.

They salt and skewer their catch to roast over the campfire, and then dig the wrapped potatoes out of the coals and toss them from hand to hand until they're cool enough to eat. Larus lets Gladio have a beer with his dinner. It's different from the occasional glass of wine his father lets him have; he feels grown up, even if it does make him burp and start falling asleep.

Larus wakes him up before dawn for a run along the shore. He's not bad for an old guy, Gladio thinks. He's got stamina. Gladio barely has to slow down to keep pace.

They spend the day hiking – it turns out Larus' passion is geology, and there are caves just to the north, and some sediment layers that Gladio's told are fascinating. He puts up with all that, because it's great to be out in the sun, climbing over rocks, dirty and sweaty. He's not a giant trapped in a small, hemmed-in world; he's as big as he needs to be.

There's a pool on the way back to camp, and they both strip naked to wash up and swim, the chill of the water making Gladio break out in goosebumps all over. But he's dry when they get back to camp, and the fire drives the last of the cold from his bones. They have Cup Noodles for dinner and finish off the beer – _Don't want to have to carry it back_ , Larus says with a shrug.

Gladio's head is spinning when they retire to the tent; as soon as he lies down the world starts revolving around him instead. He laughs, and it feels strange, like he hasn't found anything funny in years, like the anger has had no counterweight to keep from dragging him down.

"What?" Larus asks from the dark next to him, and that just makes Gladio laugh harder. "On two beers?" Larus says, fond and amused, and then he shifts beside Gladio, his hand finding the side of his face, and then his mouth steals the laughter with a beard-rough kiss.

Gladio doesn't know how to kiss or how to react or what even to think, but he doesn't need to do anything but lie there, mostly. In the dark a hand settles between his legs, rubbing him through his pants, and he's so turned on he's dizzy with it, hips rocking and his mouth falling open.

"There we go," Larus tells him. "Just relax and let yourself feel." His hand's in Gladio's pants now, fingers wrapped hot around his hard dick. "You know what'd be better?" And he slides down, shoving Gladio's pants down to his thighs and – _aw, fuck_ – sucking on Gladio like he's a hard candy, like Gladio's read about in his hidden porn magazines. It's so good he's gasping for air, chest heaving; Larus has his legs pinned down, but Gladio's feet kick anyway, and his hands are clenched into fists so tight he feels the bite of his nails.

He shouts when he comes, the way he never has in his life (with his sister's bedroom right next door), almost a roar, his shoulders curling up and his stomach so tight he can feel the burn. Larus swallows every drop of come down, and then rolls off to the side to jerk off; Gladio can hear the rough slap of it, but he's adrift in his head, floating in a blank nothing place that feels kind of like peace, and kind of like a dream, and kind of like falling from a very great height.

He's woken up the next morning for another run; Larus says nothing about the night before, and it's so surreal that Gladio starts to wonder if he dreamed it. He's never had so much to drink before. He can't ask, because that would make things weird. He's having a great time, he's happy for the first time in ever, it wasn't so bad. He finally had sex, he guesses, so that's one milestone out of the way.

They break camp and take the long way back to the car. They stop at what's apparently a spectacular bit of orthogneiss (something to do with Titan, Gladio gathers) for lunch, and Larus puts his arm around Gladio's shoulders and asks him to take his dick out and jerk off.

"It's the best feeling in the world," he says, "out here where you're free, and a man can be himself. No bullshit, no rules. You do what you want," he says, as Gladio unzips his pants. He's half-hard already, mostly because he's been thinking about sex all morning. "I knew you'd have a gorgeous cock," he adds, in the same tone he used for admiring the rock they were sitting on. "Go on, show me how you do it."

He just sits there and watches as Gladio cuffs himself, rubbing his foreskin over the head of his dick and remembering Larus' mouth there. It feels like it takes ages to come, Gladio's cheeks so hot he thinks he might be sunburned; when he does come, he aims so it hits the ground, gasping at the primal obscenity of it all.

"Fuck, that was good," Larus says, and then, "My turn." He takes Gladio's hand and puts it on his own cock, guiding him into a rough rhythm. He's fast to come, fingers holding Gladio's hand there tight until the last drop is shaken free, and then he tucks himself away. There's no kiss, and Gladio is relieved about that. He thinks it's better without the kissing. Easier to not think and just let it happen.

They get back to the car in late afternoon, and Gladio dozes on the way home. Larus drops him off and Gladio goes inside to shower and eat dinner and do his homework. It's like waking up from a dream, to re-enter his normal life, and that makes it easier to act like nothing happened. Maybe nothing did. Nothing worth thinking about, anyway.

He masters the Hammer technique before the month is out, and starts working on the Evening and Dawn variants. The next time Larus asks if he wants to go camping, Gladio says sure, and when Larus grins at him, he knows he gave the right answer.


End file.
